


The Mind Is a Delicate Thing (Rewrite)

by TheGalaxyWarrior



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGalaxyWarrior/pseuds/TheGalaxyWarrior
Summary: Thanks to Gabriel Agreste (a.k.a. Hawk Moth and his butterflies of DOOM!), Marinette's day goes from reasonably alright to total disaster.Again.But this time, Ladybug won't be able to save the day; her classmates are traveling throughout her mind, meeting her emotions and getting closer to discovering her secret.Not to mention that it's being broadcasted to all of Paris (and her parents. She is so grounded)!She knew she should've stayed home today.





	1. M. Juste Hewett

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! Yes, it is I, TheGalaxyWarrior, not dead and actually updating my account! Feel free to gasp dramatically, faint, etc.
> 
> I'll wait.
> 
> Anyway, I finally got around to rewriting TMIaDT (wow, that acronym sucks), and the first chapter is ready! But before we start, as usual, a few things to know:
> 
> \- I'm American, so I'll use Kim Chiến Lê instead of Lê Chiến Kim  
> \- This is mid-season 1-ish. That means no Queen Bee, Rena Rouge, or Carapace.  
> \- You may notice that I have a "Lila Rossi" character tag. I'm still unsure of whether or not to add her in. For now, just imagine that she's in the classroom if you want.  
> \- The "Original Akumatized Character(s)" and "Original Male Character(s)" tags are the akuma that starts the whole mess, and the man who "made" the akuma. They are NOT student/superhero OCs.  
> \- Below is the list of emotions/traits that will feature in the story. I probably won't add in any more (sorry!):  
> Anger, Anxiety, Bravery, Confidence, Creativity, Deception, Determination, Fear, Happiness, Hilarity, Honesty, Hope, Jealousy, Knowledge, Laziness, Love (familial, self-love, charity, amorous/romantic, amity), Responsibility, Sadness, Seriousness, Vanity.
> 
> That's all for now! Enjoy the story!  
> ~ Galaxy

Chapter One: M. Juste Hewett (Alya)  
  
Alya Césaire waited outside for her best friend on the steps leading to their school, the Collège Françoise Dupont. She had been standing there, hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar dark-haired pigtails hurrying her way, for about ten minutes now. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had acquired a habit of running late for school—a somewhat recent development, Paris' long-time residents had informed her—and it seemed as though today would not deviate from that established standard.  
  
"Come on, girl," she muttered, pulling up the time on her phone, "class is gonna start soon." The ladybug ornament dangling by a string on her phone glinted in the sunlight as it rotated, seemingly mocking her; though of what, she could not say. It was then that Marinette appeared on the horizon line, waving her arms frantically. All the students surrounding Alya backed away; they knew that that girl could be a train wreck in action sometimes. Sure enough, Marinette skidded to a stop in front of her, pinwheeling her arms in an attempt to keep from crashing into Alya. Alya grabbed onto her shoulder firmly, stopping what might have ended in a disaster. "Slow down, girl! You're late, not _late_."  
  
Marinette nodded, with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Alya, I'm just so used to being late that I rushed out before I could check the time. I figured the bell had already rung, but..."  
  
Alya laughed, slinging an arm around her best friend's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, we're all impressed. Come on, already! Today's the day!"  
  
The whole class had been anticipating the surprise that would appear today, having been informed of a "special reward" only a few days ago. As always, Kim Chiến Lê and Alix Kubdel had immediately placed bets. Speaking of which, Alya and Marinette skirted around the two as they argued in front of the entrance doors. Alya pushed her way in between them, Marinette following behind shyly. She yelled over her shoulder to them, "Just kiss already!"  
  
Ignoring their tomato-red faces and appalled stuttering, Alya sauntered through the courtyard, on her way to Miss Bustier's classroom. Marinette hurried after her, smiling at her best friend's daring and penchant for gossip. The two continued to discuss Alya's _Ladyblog_ as they climbed the stairs. Alya commented on the homework they'd had, amused to see Marinette's panicked face.  
  
"Don't worry; you can copy mine before class starts. You've got time," Alya repeated the words in her head, unfamiliar with saying the phrase to her best friend. She knew it wouldn't last—she gave it less than three days, at most—but she enjoyed talking with her best friend during those few minutes before class started.  
  
"Yo, dudettes! Talking about the latest akuma fight?" Nino Lahiffe interrupted, waving from his seat. He grinned cheekily at Alya, who found herself blushing. "Nice footage, yeah?"  
  
Alya swatted him on the side of his head as she passed him on the way to her seat. "I don't know. I think it was alright _at best_." She smirked at his faux-hurt pout. Marinette giggled, sitting down in her seat. "Seriously though, not bad, Spielberg. Thanks again."  
  
"No problem. I love to help out a friend. It's good practice, anyway." Alya had "hired" Nino as her cameraman. By using actual equipment, instead of just her phone which had a habit of being broken, she hoped to appear more professional. Especially to Nadja Chamack, who thought she had the right to call herself Paris' best reporter—  
  
"Hey, Alya?" Marinette's voice broke through her thoughts. "Can you tell me what you think about this design?"  
  
Alya swiped the book from her best friend's hands. She looked over the outfit, nodding approvingly. "Girl, this is off the chain! I am so jealous of whoever is gonna get to wear it!"  
  
Marinette smiled. "I guess it's a good thing that I'm making it for you, then."  
  
"For real?" Alya stared at her in disbelief. "Aw, yeah! You're the best, Mari!" She wrapped her arms around the petite girl. She broke away to discreetly photograph the design, saving it in her photo album. Little did Mari know, she did so with every outfit she was shown by the aspiring designer, in the hopes that one day, Marinette would allow her to create a website for her— eventual—fashion empire.  
  
The sound of approaching footsteps made Alya look up. She regretted it at once. There, in the doorway, stood the Queen Bee of Collège Françoise Dupont—Chloé Bourgeois. Sabrina Raincomprix stumbled in after her, both girls' schoolbooks in her arms.  
  
"Yes, yes," Chloé said. "Of course I know what the surprise is! After all, my daddy is the Mayor. And, of course, Adrien is my best friend! He'd never keep secrets from me!"  
  
Marinette leaned over to whisper to Alya, "Sounds like Chloé knows what the surprise is, or is at least pretending to." Alya nodded. With Chloé it was a coin toss as to whether or not she was telling the truth. She was well-connected, true, but sometimes she pretended to be a bit more than she was. Alya, as an aspiring journalist, had learned to take everything said with a grain of salt until people—or herself—had the evidence to back up the claims.  
  
The last of the stragglers shuffled into the classroom as the bell rang, signifying the start of class. Miss Bustier entered a second later. She smiled reassuringly at the students, easing some of the nervous tension permeating the classroom.  
  
"Good morning, everyone!"  
  
The class replied in kind. Even Chloé seemed to be paying attention to the lesson, a rare occurrence. _Maybe she_ does _know something about the surprise_ , Alya mused. Ah, well, it was only a matter of minutes now. Indeed, Miss Bustier walked over to the doorway of the classroom, leaning out and waving to someone. A man came inside, carrying some odd device. He set it down on Miss Bustier's desk.  
  
Alya frowned at him. Something in her gut told her this guy was bad news. Maybe it was the egocentric sneer on his face or the possessive way he cradled the machine, as though he was afraid of someone taking it, but she had a feeling she'd be seeing Ladybug in action soon. Either way—cool new scientific achievement or akuma-related disaster—Alya knew this would be a story for _one_ of the blogs she ran. If the school didn't want her reporting on things, she thought with a smile, then they should know better than to let impulsive teenagers near strange machinery without _at least_ a couple of NDAs.  
  
"I am Juste Hewett," the man began. Gasps sounded across the room as kids murmured to each other. He had been on the news just a few days ago, talking with Nadja Chamack on the way he had revolutionized science with his ideas on psychology. His flippant attitude and unconventional way of speaking when discussing his field made him slightly unpopular, but even some of his harshest critics admitted to awe over his theory work. "This creation before you is something I have worked on for a _very_ long time. You see, years ago, as many scientific achievements begin, I had an idea. We all know of emotions—anger, fear, happiness, sadness. Sometimes it can be hard for us to express them....."  
  
Max, of course, nodded along to the story, although he had a thoughtful expression as Dr. Hewett talked. Alya would get the scoop from him after class. Some, like Kim and Alix, were barely paying attention. Alya herself was immersed in the lesson, although she focused more on the _idea_ behind the machine than the science. It sounded interesting, especially if it was real and not just a sci-fi fantasy. Apparently—and this was the most Alya understood of the scientific jargon M. Hewett rambled on about—the device could "intercept" the transmitted signals of your nervous system, allowing you to view your emotional state. It seemed to have multiple purposes—from helping those with PTSD deal with their trauma to consumer use as the latest toy or fad.  
  
She leaned over to whisper in Marinette's ear, "Think he'll let me try it out?"  
  
Marinette glared playfully at her. "You want to let everyone view your secrets?" She paused, before continuing with a grin, "Although I would like to know where you and Nino were last night when I tried to call."  
  
Alya smacked her lightly on the arm, trying to ignore the blush that was surely burning up her face. "The answer's nowhere! I was at home, editing the footage from the akuma fight. Sorry I missed you calling, by the way."  
  
"It's okay; your 'career' is more important than what I had to talk about, anyway." Mari smiled, and Alya hugged her with one arm.  
  
"Nu-uh, girl, you're way more important than a silly hobby!" Mari rolled her eyes, but let it go as she turned her attention back to M. Hewett, who was finishing up his speech. The man asked if anyone had questions, and no one was surprised when Max's hand shot up into the air. He ignored it, however, in favor of Marinette, which was just a little surprising. Mari could be pretty smart, but she didn't participate in class much.  
  
"I have to ask," Mari began, and Alya shuddered at the sight of that innocent smile on her face, the one that promised swift retribution to those that opposed her, "isn't this a little invasive? I think everyone should be entitled to their privacy. What if we see thoughts or memories that the person would prefer to keep hidden? Everyone has secrets, and I don't think it's fair to force them out in the open like this."  
  
M. Hewett frowned at her. "Miss..."  
  
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She replied.  
  
"Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is a highly sensitive and basic prototype. Not available for use, not yet. With the final product, there will be safeguards in place to ensure privacy. Even so, it's entirely optional, of course."  
  
Marinette nodded. She still had an expression of doubt, though, and Alya knew to trust her BFF's instincts. The girl had some freaky sixth sense and incredible luck—some of the time, at least. She kept a careful eye on the device. Just as M. Hewett was about to turn the machine on, the window shattered, cracks appearing like cobwebs as thousands of tiny shards of glass scattered across the floor. Alya dove under her desk, fearing an akuma attack. And then the screaming began.


	2. The Akuma

Chapter Two: The Akuma (Alya)

Alya covered her ears to block the sound. She needed to see what was happening, but students were running around like crazy, trying to get to the exit or hide under their desks. People were bumping into each other and falling to the ground, getting trampled by the feet of other kids. Alya rolled her eyes. You'd think people would be used to akuma attacks by now, she thought. That is if it is an akuma attack. I need to see what's happening.  
  
Alya weighed the pros and cons before throwing caution to the wind and risking it. She crawled out from under her desk, peeking over the top to view the carnage. Before she could think about it, she was pulling out her phone and pressing the record button.  
  
"Hey guys," she whispered. "It's Alya, here at the Collège Françoise Dupont, where an akuma attack, I think, is taking place." She glanced around. Standing in front of the broken window was what could only be an akuma. The person—probably male, possibly mid-twenties, undetermined race—was dressed in a burlesque parody of a stereotypical scientist's garb. The white lab coat was pitch-black, draped around the akuma's body like a cape, with purple symbols and shapes that Alya would describe as runes decorating the hem. She held the camera aloft and zoomed in on the akuma's face. Resting on the bridge of the akuma's nose were purple, butterfly-shaped glasses. Alya smothered a hysterical giggle. For such a seriously dangerous supervillain, Hawk Moth had a surprising obsession with the whole butterfly motif. The akuma stalked forward, eyes locked onto M. Hewett with an intense ferocity that could only mean one thing. "It looks like his akumatization has something to do with the famous scientist, M. Juste Hewett, who had graciously donated his time to do a short presentation for my class. Oh, I hope Ladybug gets here soon."  
  
As soon as she murmured the wish, the iconic red-and-black spotted superheroine appeared in the open doorway to the classroom. Right behind her was the leather-clad Cat Noir, hand raised menacingly and prepared to call on the destructive power of his Cataclysm.  
  
"Stop right there!" Ladybug whipped out her yoyo, wrapping it around the akuma's thin form and pulling him away from the frightened scientist. The akuma broke free and marched towards M. Hewett once again.  
  
"Well, well, well, someone's feline pretty grouchy today." Cat Noir rushed past the akuma to reach M. Hewett first, crouching defensively in front of him, baton whirling in his hands. "What, no evil monologuing? No 'give me your miraculous?' I'd ask 'cat got your tongue,' but—"  
  
Ladybug trapped the akuma's arm once again when it lunged for Cat Noir. "Careful, Kitty, we don't know what his powers are yet. Don't let him touch you!"  
  
"You got it, Bugaboo!" Cat saluted, jumping out of the way of a beam of light that narrowly missed M. Hewett, who dove beneath the nearest desk. The akuma growled. Ladybug stumbled when the akuma suddenly turned, grabbing the machine from the lesson earlier. It played with the controls, turning the dials slightly and pressing down hard on the buttons.  
  
"Please," Ladybug started, ever the diplomat, "put the machine down. You don't know what it does!"  
  
That had been the wrong thing to say. The akuma whirled around, face contorting into a disgusting grimace as it shouted, "Of course I know what the blasted thing does! I built it! But my ex-best friend changed the blueprints around when he went and told everyone it was his idea and device, and the piece of trash is barely usable!"  
  
Alya winced at the bitterness in those words. She used to think that, after a while, Parisians would learn to be better. They'd stop entering pointless fights and committing crimes, and they'd learn to keep their emotions under control. She'd seen first-hand how those kinds of things could negatively impact people and worked to control her unquenchable thirst for truth and knowledge and not to hurt anyone if she could help it. But Hawk Moth kept finding himself new victims, even if several of them have been tourists or new to the city.  
  
Cat Noir stepped forward. "Listen, we can help. But you have to—"  
  
Alya watched as the akuma raised a hand glowing with energy. She stared in shock, unable to move, as the beam solidified and went shooting in Cat Noir's direction. Time seemed to slow. Alya thought she could pinpoint the exact moment Ladybug forwent rational thinking and dove in front of her partner—her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a silent cry. Both Alya and the harbinger of bad luck reached forward to push her away, but they were too late. As soon as the beam reached her, Alya's world went black.


End file.
